


Just Hold Me, Please

by christinchen



Series: Hurt/Comfort Bingo [4]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:55:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27225376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/christinchen/pseuds/christinchen
Summary: It just so happens that John desperately needs some human contact and Rodney's back is kinda sore. It's just a simple massage between two friends. No, really!
Relationships: Rodney McKay & John Sheppard, Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Series: Hurt/Comfort Bingo [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1856212
Comments: 10
Kudos: 69
Collections: Hurt/Comfort Bingo - Round 11, M20  2020 Halloween Mini-Round of Rounds of Kink





	Just Hold Me, Please

**Author's Note:**

> written for the 2020 Halloween Mini-Round of [Rounds of Kink](https://rounds-of-kink.dreamwidth.org/) for the promp: wrapped and the kink: massage, and as a fill for my [H/C Bingo](https://hc-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) square of "touch-starved" on my [card](https://christinchen.dreamwidth.org/93377.html)

In the moment he doesn’t know what prompted it, why he offered it. It could have been an one-off remark, something he didn't think Rodney would take him up on. Really most guys would not have taken him up on it, would have laughed it off and even worse thrown an insult at him. 

But once again Rodney McKay was proving that most societal rules did not apply to him. So he had answered Rodney’s surprised, happy “Really?” with a “Sure, buddy, why not?” And really why not? Because there was some sort of unspoken rule between heterosexual men that you can’t give each other back massages? If Rodney wasn't bothered then John was determined not to be bothered either.

Rodney showed up to his room at 20.00 sharp, looking just as eager as he had earlier when John had offered the massage. He was wearing a loose fitting, worn out t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. He looked comfortable in a way that made a weird feeling spread in John’s stomach.

“Okay,” Rodney started off, “a couple of things first: I have very sensitive skin. So, no weirdly scented oils or such nonsense.” He pulled a bottle with a clear, oily liquid from his pocket. “You can use this.”

John nodded but before he could offer up anything more Rodney continued right on: “Sensitive skin also means that I'm sensitive to pressure and scratches. You can't press too hard or I'll have bruises and your nails need to be short and you can't have any of those odd, rough, scabby bits - don't pretend you don't pick at and bite your nails, Colonel.”

John looked down at his fingers guiltily. He did do that. When he was nervous, when he was bored. On those endless missions that seemed to drag on and on with harvest festivals and trade negotiations. He didn’t think anyone had noticed. Trust McKay to pick up on something innate like that. 

“Now, secondly, I put a lot of importance on hygiene. Clean hands, clean…” he paused a moment surveying John's room, “bedsheet, i guess.”

“I'll put a towel down,” John offered. In just a moment Rodney would be lying on his bed, partially naked, and wasn’t that an odd thought. It wasn’t an entire unpleasant thought though, John discovered. 

“Oh, good. Right then, I trust you know what you are doing,” Rodney nodded curtly before giving John a pointed look towards the bathroom. Right, he was supposed to go scrub and clean his hands. 

So he went and did just that, taking care to smooth over any hangnails. He was eager to do this right by Rodney. Much of today's mission had been spent with him feeling complete and utterly useless while Rodney all but stuffed himself into the Ancient machinery to work on the parts that needed fixing. 

John didn't like feeling useless. He had been itching to help. But the space had been cramped and he didn't have the necessary skills. John had been trying to remedy that. He was a pilot after all. Most basic engineering tasks were something he was more than capable of. As long as he knew what he was doing. And figuring that out when it came to Ancient technology was a skill that Rodney had mastered. 

So Rodney had been the one to do the repairs and John had complained about feeling superfluous until Rodney had finally snapped that he could be in charge of giving his poor abused back a massage once he was done with the machine. And he had agreed. Easily. 

When he returned to the bedroom Rodney was sitting on his bed shirtless. Rodney's broad shoulders always surprised him for some reason. Maybe because they were usually hidden underneath a uniform jacket. Today's mission had been one of the rare ones that had resulted in Rodney working in just his uniform shirt. 

John liked those missions. He liked the way Rodney's arms had looked, muscles straining while he worked with a wretch on something particularly stubborn to come loose. He liked the way a sheen of sweat had been starting to build up on his face from the exertion. It was so easy to see Rodney as purely a scientist, all theory no practical skills. But that was far from the truth. Rodney had a surprising amount of muscle mass. And now John would get to run his hands all over those muscles.

“What? What's wrong?” Rodney tore him from his thoughts. “You look like you are trying to dissolve the knots in my musculature by glaring at it through my skin.”

John laughed awkwardly and walked around the bed, motioning for Rodney to lie face down onto the bed. That way he at least wouldn’t be able to see that John was semi-hard in his pants. Yet somehow seeing Rodney spread out on his bed seemed to make it so much worse. And the knowledge that he was allowed to touch, that he even was expected to touch was driving him crazy. 

The oil that Rodney had brought spread over his hands easily, warming with his touch. It had been years since he had given someone a massage but he remembered Nancy’s surprised yelps when he had forgotten to warm the massage oil beforehand. Finally touching his slick hands to Rodney’s heated skin sent shivers down his spine. He couldn’t even remember when the last time he touched another person was. At least an actual touch, not just a quick, casual pat on the back or grabbing someone’s arm to pull them out of harm’s way. But a touch that was done with the intent of actually touching another person. Not even sexual necessarily, because that was longer ago than he was willing to admit even to himself. 

He had heard of soldiers being touch-starved, had heard it called skin hunger. Men that were being held behind enemy lines for weeks and months on end, locked in small cells, without light or any kind of human interaction. Not even seeing the guard that was bringing them their food and water. The military had prepared him for this kind of torture, told him to cling to memories of loved ones, told him that the human body, the human mind could withstand worse things than loneliness. 

John remembered the way his skin had tingeled all over after returning from his first tour to Afghanistan. Nancy had called him clingy back then, had gotten annoyed with him when he had asked to hold her for hours on end. It had passed, by the time he had had to return for his next tour his body had been used to being touched again. He remembered how he had wondered if it would always be like that. The next time he had returned to the states Nancy hadn’t touched him, hadn’t let him hold her, had asked for a divorce.

The next few times after that when he had returned there hadn’t been anyone to hold onto, to touch, his skin hadn’t tingled for days. And when he had flown back out his body had been fine without human touch. Coming to Atlantis hadn’t changed that. No matter what Rodney liked to imply about him and Teyla, or him and Elizabeth or him and every classically beautiful woman they encountered on their missions. 

He wondered if it was the same for Rodney. He liked to talk about this mysterious ‘thing’ he had had with Sam Carter. He liked to bring up ‘this ex-girlfriend of mine’ or ‘this girl I used to hang out with in college, if you get my drift’ every now and then. Mostly when there were a bunch of Marines around, so John wasn’t quite sure how much truth there was to those statements. Rodney seemed to have this weird urge to fit in and stand out at the same time. 

John spread his palms flat all over the expanse of skin in front of him and slowly started to knead the hard muscle under his fingers. He felt Rodney gradually relax and then all at once with a bone-deep sigh. 

“Is this okay?” John asked, just to be sure, just to fill the silence. 

“Oh, yeah. This is perfect. You are really amazing at this?” Rodney's voice was muffled by the pillow his face was pressed into. 

“Thanks,” John answered, feeling oddly bashful. He had given most of his girlfriends massages, it had always been a great way to get them into his bed and at least partially naked. 

That hadn't been his incentive with Rodney though. Not that he had minded the thought of a partially naked Rodney in his bed, not that the reality of it wasn't amazing. Broad, muscular shoulders and back, the tantalising hint of skin that was showing where his sweatpants were pushed low on his hips for maximum massageable surface. 

He loved the way Rodney's body was built, the surprisingly strong legs that he had spent the better part of the day admiring as they pushed Rodney into and out of the heavy machinery, the soft belly he knew he would encounter if he were to simply flip him over onto his back. 

Which he couldn't, wouldn't do. This thing with Rodney wasn't like this. Rodney talked about girlfriends, never boyfriends, not even ill-advised college experiences. John had tried to leave him openings in conversations, implied that there might have, could have possibly been, but Rodney had vehemently blocked all his attempts. Short of outright saying “I’m bi and think you’re really attractive, wanna hook up?” John was sure he wouldn’t be getting anywhere with Rodney. And that wasn’t an option since the U.S. Army tended to frown on that kind of thing. 

It wasn’t even about hooking up at this point, John thought to himself. He would be more than happy if he could just lie down next to Rodney, press his body against his, feel the tingles and shivers run through his body until it was used to being touched again. He couldn’t do that of course, wouldn’t do that. Because Rodney was straight. But then again Rodey had proven before that he didn’t seem to care too much about what society thought of him. 

A soft, breathy moan ripped John right out of his musings. Carefully he repeated the movements of his fingers and was rewarded with a soft gasp, almost immediately muffled by the pillow again. He gently kept repeating the movement, pressing his hands flat into Rodney's lower back. John felt Rodney rock back into his hands and forward down into the mattress underneath him. Was he…? He couldn't possibly be getting off on this right?

“Good?” John couldn't help but ask. His voice sounded rough in his own ears. 

“Yes. God, yes,” Rodney's voice sounded absolutely wrecked. 

“Are you…?” What was he even asking, John thought desperately. Are you getting off on this? Are you going to come? “Want me to do your front too?” he asked instead.

“Ummm, it’s just… I mean I might be… If I say yes are you going to, I don't know, freak out? Hit me?”

“Hit you? What the fuck, Rodney?”

“Alright, maybe not hit me but think I'm a complete pervert and never talk to me again?”

“Turn around, Rodney.”

“You know what? I'd rather not, to be perfectly honest with you.”

“Just turn around,” John rolled his eyes and grabbed Rodney by the hips, forcibly turning him over. 

Rodney's face was flushed. And John allowed his glace to slide lower, over Rodney's broad chest, which was also flushed, down to the waistband of his sweatpants. He hesitated a moment. He could still pretend this wasn't happening, he hadn't noticed. But then he allowed himself to look. 

“You can hate me all you want but it's been a really fucking long time since another person touched me in any way and I refuse to feel ashamed by my body's reaction to it.”

“Rodney,” John drawled. Right, he would have to say something, anything to take this from incredibly awkward and awful to better territory again. These types of situations were so much easier with girls, he thought. They were aroused, you were aroused, it just happened. This on the other hand, this seemed to require talking about, figuring out if this was even a thing that could happen, if this was a thing that they both wanted to happen. 

“Ummm, it was called skin hunger in the army, it's being touch starved,” he began explaining. 

“What? No, no. Oh, no,” Rodney immediately interrupted. “That's not what this is. I meant that it had been a really long time since a reasonably attractive person had touched me in a, even if unintentional, sensual way and that's how my body reacted.”

“Reasonably attractive?” John repeated with a teasing smirk. 

“Oh my god, I can't believe this is what you choose to focus on in this conversation!”

“Okay then,”John took a deep breath. “It is like that for me, the being touch starved, and I… I also refuse to feel embarrassed by how my body reacted.”

John was worried what Rodney would say to him putting his cards out on the table like that, how he would react. But for long, long moments Rodney didn't say anything at all. When he finally mustered up the courage to meet his eyes they were looking straight at him. An emotion in them John couldn't quite name. 

“How does your body react?” Rodney finally asked. “Because you're not… well…” he trailed off with an awkward gesture to John's crotch.

“No, I'm not,” he confirmed. He wasn't hard, he was aroused, sure, but he didn't think his body could quite manage an erection right now. “I feel tingly, I guess is the best way to describe it. Like my skin tingles where I touched you.”

“So what do I do?”

John frowned at Rodney's question. They could still have sex if Rodney wanted. Should he offer a blowjob? He could do that. 

“What do you want to do?” is what he settled on after a moment. 

“What do I want? I don't care what I want! What do you need, John? What do I do to make this better for you?” 

What he wanted? Anything Rodney was willing to offer, any ever so small bit of human touch would be heaven. He wanted to bury himself into Rodney, wrap his entire body around Rodney's, touch wherever he could reach. He just wanted to lie there, soak up the touch of skin against his own, the heat a warm body against his would be giving off. 

“Umm, I guess just holding me usually helps quite a bit. I mean, if that isn't too awkward.” John was fully prepared for Rodney to completely turn him down. But at the same time he was willing himself to not simply throw himself at Rodney and hope he'd somehow figure it out. 

“Oh my god, you really are a complete moron. You…” Rodney suddenly trailed off mid rant. “Usually? Did you honestly just say 'usually'? As in this is a somewhat regular occurrence?”

“Rodney, I'm a soldier. I spent a lot of time in war zones, away from friends and family and anyone I knew. Even being here. I don't have anyone here.” And wasn't that sad to admit. That he was fucking lonely, that being lonely was his default. He didn't even miss anyone at home, there was no one to miss, there wasn't even a place to call home, not really. 

“Yes, but you… there's always… you always… oh my god, you actually don't sleep with all these people you flirt with, do you?”

“I don't flirt with anyone. I'm being friendly. That doesn't mean I wanna jump into bed with anyone,” he sighed. 

“Right,” Rodney hesitated a moment. “I think I'm uhh, in a position to do the holding you thing now if you still want to… or I can get someone else? Should I get someone else? Someone female? Like Teyla or…” he didn't finish his sentence because John's self-control finally snapped and he all but flopped down onto Rodney. 

“Hi,” Rodney murmured his face inches from John's. 

“Hi,” John sighed, content and started to carefully maneuver them properly onto his small bed so they could lie next to each other. 

“So, I guess that means I'm fine then?”

“Yes, Rodney, you're fine,” John murmured into Rodney's neck. ‘And so am I,’ he thought to himself. His entire body was dissolving into tingles as he soaked up Rodney's heat and touch. 

They could deal with everything else later, like the fact that Rodney was definitely half hard again, or the fact that John didn't mind the feeling of his erection against his thigh, or that his own cock was giving an interested twitch. All that had time, for now the only thing he wanted to do was lie there and let Rodney run soft patterns into the skin between his shoulder blades. And somehow Rodney seemed perfectly content to do just that.


End file.
